It's Actually a Skirt
by Neko Syaoran
Summary: “And like if I win,” Feliks said with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Then you like totally have to wear whatever I tell you to.” Arthur gulped and was determined more than ever to win. USUK in later chapters. Rating may change later.
1. The Bet and the Loser

**Author's Notes: IT'S THE DAMN PLOT BUNNIES!! I SWEAR!!! T^T *cough* Ahem! Excuse me for that but I had to make that clear before I say that I'm sorry for not updating "To Rock or Not To Rock" since I've lost the plot bunny and the document for the second chapter. Umm... What inspired me to write this piece of crack? Well, I didn't see that many fanfics of England crossdress (but then again I'm not looking hard enough) but I have seen so much fanart of it that I was actually inspired to write this! ... That and the fact that this could possibly happen! ... Even though I did not research anything on Poland's football team or if they even have one nor if England has ever played against Poland. So yeah, just pretend and it's fanfiction come on! I don't want someone bitching at me saying "You stupid American! You have no clue and yadda, yadda, yadda, etc." -_-; I'm sorry, okay? ;^;**

**Warnings: Feliks being himself, Arthur's potty mouth, probably misuse of British slang/lingo/whatever it's called, and possibly crossdressing? =D Viewer's discretion is somewhat advised.**

**Disclaimers: Axis Powers Hetalia and its lovely characters are owned by Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing but my mind and the idea of this fanfic.**

**Extra: This fanfic might have about 6 or less chapters, it depends on my mood. =|**

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The Bet and the Loser

It was rather a nice day, a bit less than perfect but still good enough for a splendid game of football. Arthur Kirkland shielded his eyes from the sun as he inspected the field before him. He sighed as a slight wind blew past him freshening the air, the nostalgia flowing out of him.

"Of course I'm not nervous." The Briton stated to himself. "It's just I ate something funny." Arthur looked towards the field again. "Yes, that's right."

"Yeah, like that's so totally right!" A new sarcastic voice agreed. "You like totally ate those disgusting burnt things. What did you call them? Hockey pucks?" Arthur turned around abruptly to face the Pole.

"They're scones!" Arthur shouted. "And they are delicious!" He scoffed.

"Like excuse me, Mr. PMS." Feliks said as he stuck out his tongue. "Just like making an observation." Feliks huffed, his blonde hair blowing backwards in the wind.

Arthur ignored the insult since he was a gentleman and he would settle this in a nice friendly but competitive game of football. Arthur smirked as he thought that it would be an easy game since the Pole rarely ever acted like a real man, since Feliks mostly acted like a teenage American girl who cared mainly about her popularity and looks.

"Like Arthur, are even listening to me!?" Feliks shouted as he waved his hand in the Briton's face.

Arthur smacked his hand away from him. "Of course I am." He scoffed at the pouting Pole.

"You so were totally not!" Feliks accused, jabbing Arthur in the chest with his index finger. "Hey it's squishy!" He exclaimed joyously poking poor Arthur in the chest multiple times.

"Will you cut it out!?" Arthur snapped shoving Feliks away. "And it's muscle."

"Like I was just having fun." Feliks pouted as he pretended to be hurt. "You always take everything so seriously."

"Then beating you in this game shouldn't be as hard as it is to get you to listen to me!" Arthur shouted at the Polish man, and immediately regretted the fact that he let his sarcasm get the best of him. "Feliks, I'm sorry-"

"Like if you feel that way, then you're wrong!" Feliks said rising out of his shock and depressed state. "I'll like totally beat you!"

"Like bloody hell you will!" Arthur argued, his apologetic sympathy draining out of him. "You can't even focus on scolding me let alone a bloody football." He smirked.

"Do you like wanna bet!?" Feliks asked determinedly.

"Let's make a bet!" Arthur agreed. "If I win you must dress like a proper gentleman and not like a woman in anyway shape or form." Feliks gulped audibly, looking around nervously. Arthur had him in his clutches.

"O-okay." Feliks agreed reluctantly. "And like if I win," Feliks said with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Then you like totally have to wear whatever I tell you to."

"What!?" Arthur cried out, feeling as if he was knocked off the face of the Earth.

"What's the matter?" Feliks asked sarcastically. "Are you like chicken or something?" He smirked and Arthur didn't like it.

"Of course I'm not." Arthur said as his composure reformed. "Alright." He said stick his hand out to Feliks. "Do we have a deal?"

Feliks did not hesitate to shake his hand and the bet was official.

"Get ready to lose, Kirkland." Feliks said as he walked away.

As soon as Arthur was sure that Feliks was far away to listen, he let out a cry of frustration. Arthur backed into the wall and slid down to the floor.

"Why?" Arthur cried in his hands. "Why did I make that stupid bet?" He looked up and took a deep breath. "There's only one thing to do." Arthur paused as he looked to the now filling stadium seats. "And that is to win." Arthur gulped and was more determined than ever to win this fight.

---

The game had started about two hours before and the scores were showing the slight lead to Arthur's advantage.

_Yes!_ Arthur thought, rejoicing in his mind. _If my team and I can keep this up, Feliks will be eating his own words while dressing like a true man!_ Arthur looked over at the other team, who were clearly in a state of confusion with Feliks trying to get them "pumped up" while dressed as a cheerleader.

Arthur chuckled at the Pole and thought that he was quite pathetic but not in a negative way. He was somewhat smiling when Feliks came up to him.

"Like bet you're like getting cocky right now, right?" Feliks asked frightening the Briton.

"Of course not!" Arthur retorted with a cool composure. "And do not materialize out of nowhere; it's quite rude."

"I'm like so totally sorry." Feliks whined. "But like just remember: Looks can be deceiving." Feliks stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "Just like when America declared independence from you-"

Feliks was cut off by Arthur's fist colliding with his cheek, causing Feliks to fall backwards. Although the punch was quite forceful, it lacked the power behind it.

"You have no right to bring that up." Arthur glared down at the Pole, who was starting to tear up and rubbed his cheek.

"Like that's the last straw!" Feliks shouted at Arthur. "I'm like so going to win that you won't even see it coming! My team and I will rise out of this like a phoenix and totally win!" Feliks retreated back to his side of the field and disappeared in the crowd of players.

Arthur just stood there in mild shock. "You know, he reminds me of someone." Arthur said his voice trailing off as a picture of Peter flashed in his mind. "Yes, just like him." Arthur sighed. As the game started back up again.

---

"What the bloody hell!?" Arthur screamed at the score board as if it would magically return to the previous score. "This can't be happening!"

Feliks walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It like totally is." Feliks giggled as he looked up at the score board. "I so totally beat your ass!"

Arthur removed the hand from his shoulder and figuratively shrank down to absolutely nothing. He dreaded the words that would come from the Polish man's mouth sooner or later, reminding him of the worst mistake of his life.

"Now you like so totally have to let me dress you up!" Feliks rejoiced grabbing Arthur's arm and started to drag him towards the exit. "You'll like completely fabulous, Arthur!"

Arthur groaned as he was dragged out of the stadium to a car, obviously Feliks'. "I've never lost something like this in my life." Arthur sighed, defeated.

"Ah, but what about that time with A-" Arthur growled lowly, warning Feliks that if he brought _that_ up again that he would be torn from limb to limb. "Sorry, sorry!"

Arthur rolled his eyes as he half forced himself and was half shoved into the car. "Where are we going exactly?"

Feliks, who had ran to the driver's seat, looked at Arthur as if he had asked the most idiotic question in the world. "Shopping of course!" Feliks exploded from all the fabulous ideas that were popping into his head. "Oh Arthur, you'll look like so adorable in a skirt!"

"WHAT!?" Arthur screamed bloody murder.

"Oh come on, they're like those things that you wear. What were they called again? Kilts or something?"

"But kilts are part of my culture." Arthur retorted. "Skirts are meant for women only!"

"But like you totally have the legs to pull it off!" Feliks huffed. "Besides, you agreed to the bet and you have to wear anything I tell you to." Arthur murmured something inaudible under his breath and Feliks perked up. "Or I'll give you as a present to Francis or better yet Ivan!"

"No! I'll wear the skirt!" Arthur pleaded. "Just don't send me to that frog or Russia!"

"Okay!"

"But I'm not wearing a skirt to meetings." Arthur threw in that statement to make sure Feliks did not buy formal women's suits. "And I'm definitely not wearing dresses either."

"Geez, Arthur!" Feliks sighed. "Do you like think I'm like that crazy to make you wear that kind of item to a meeting? Even I totally don't wear skirts to meetings, since all of them are absolutely psycho!" Feliks whined. Arthur nodded in agreement.

They sat in silence for quite a few moments, soaking in the quiet atmosphere. This was probably the first Arthur had ever had a real conversation with Feliks where it wasn't about the other's choice of clothing or war related events. It was actually quite nice and Arthur found himself smiling for a bit.

"Like we're totally here!" Feliks exclaimed as they turned sharply into a parking space. Arthur hit the side door.

"What the bloody hell are you doing!?" Arthur screamed at the smiling Pole. "Are you trying to kill us!?"

"Joy-killer." Feliks pouted as he got out of the car. "Come on! Let's go shopping for you!" He practically pulled Arthur out of the car and dragged them into the nearby store.

_Well this is going to be some adventure…_ Arthur thought as they entered the store, which just so happened to be filled with pink girly items. "Bullocks…" Arthur groaned under his breath.

This week, let alone today, was going to be hell on the British man as he and Feliks braved the stores and shopping districts in search for clothing that suited Arthur.

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**Thank you for reading! Please take the time to review because I love it when people actually compliment or critque my idiotic fanfics! =D**

**Next chapter should be posted on Saturday or Sunday. ... I hope... ^^;**


	2. Shopping and the Dream

**Author's Notes: _I need sleep~ I need sleep~ Since I woke up at one in the morning~!!!_--- That just proves how sleep deprived and loopy I am right now.... Anyways, um... Not really much to say about this chapter, except I posted it on time!!! XD Huzzah~! I'm so proud of myself! w Hope you enjoy the second chapter of "It's Actually a Skirt"!! ... I think I'll sleep after I post this... ;^; OH!! Also, thank you for the lovely reviews! I'm still in this process of replying to each one of them so after some well deserved sleep I'll do that!**

**Warnings: Feliks getting his shop on, Arthur being tsundere (or pissy?), possible allusions to USUK?, and miniskirts and spaghetti-strap shirts (I do believe that you call them camisoles?)**

**Disclaimer: Axis Powers Hetalia and its lovely characters are own by Hidekaz Himaruya. I do not own anything except the idea behind this fanfic.**

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Shopping and the Dream

It was quite a long day for Arthur as Feliks dragged him to stores and forced him to try on various outfits, which consisted of mostly skirts and once in a while a spaghetti-strap shirt. After making Arthur try on almost everything in the store, Feliks began to realize just how comfortable Arthur was with trying on the items.

"Come on, Artie!" Feliks teased. "Like wearing cute clothes isn't like gonna kill you!"

"Don't call me 'Artie'!" Arthur snapped back from behind the dressing room curtain. Arthur was currently trying on a pleated pink skirt with a white knit long-sleeve top. "I'm just surprised that there aren't other customers here." Arthur said quietly, but Feliks heard him.

"Like of course not!" Feliks said bluntly. "It's like only busy during the weekdays."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, slightly puzzled.

"Well," Feliks began to explain, "Like this store is like the place where men mostly buy things from." Arthur began to picture of a businessman entering a store like this and buying something 'erotic' for his wife. "But it's not for their wives." Feliks added, shattering Arthur's mental picture. "It's for them to wear."

Arthur's eyes widened and his jaw dropped open but as quickly as it dropped he closed it again. "Well, that would explain quite a lot." Arthur chuckled nervously, thinking back to how the clerk had treated them as if they were women and as if it was normal.

"Yup!" Feliks said as he sighed. "I like thought so." There was a slight pause before conversation started back up again. "Hey Artie, are you like finished trying it on?" Feliks asked impatiently while making a strange whining noise.

"Don't call me 'Artie'." Arthur sighed, while looking at himself in the mirror in front of him. "I guess I am." He then answered, feeling a bit ridiculous in the outfit.

"I wanna see! I wanna see!" Feliks shouted in glee. "Come on out! I wanna see how you look!"

Arthur sighed in a defeated way as he stepped closer to the curtain. He pulled it back, revealing himself to the Pole, who was jumping up and down at the moment. After seeing Arthur, Feliks stopped all celebration and just looked at how much the clothes were contrasting with the person wearing them.

"Augh!" Feliks groaned in a disgusted tone. "I give up on this store for you." Feliks said finally defeated. "But I like might buy that skirt. It's adorable and would like so totally look way better on me!" Arthur flinched at the comment. "Well, like just don't stand there! Change back into your clothes and let's totally go!" Arthur obeyed the command and pulled the curtain closed.

---

After Feliks had bought the skirt for himself, they decided to take a break from shopping and go get something to drink. So Feliks decided, on his own, to drive them to a small smoothie shop that was a bit of ways away from the main shopping district. Arthur was just relieved to get a short break from it. Once the car was parked, the two men walked into the shop; Feliks ordering a fruit smoothie and Arthur buying water. After receiving their drinks, they took a seat near the front windows of the shop, which seemed like it was secluded from the rest of the shop since there weren't any people around in that area. Where they sat just so happened to have a view of not only the car but the road as well.

Arthur looked at the collection of bags, from various stores, in the backseat of the car. It was obvious that every item in those bags were for Feliks and not for him. Arthur was a bit relieved but hurt that the Pole would use him as a mannequin.

"It's like a good thing we're the same size, right?" Feliks giggled as he took another sip of his smoothie.

Arthur faked a smile as he took a sip of water. "It must be nice for you."

"I like totally know!" Feliks agreed. "Except we need to start looking for you now." He said in a serious tone that Arthur almost choked on his water.

Arthur sputtered a bit trying to find words to say, but he then felt like nothing could be said at a time like this.

"So I was like thinking," Feliks said looking towards the road in the distance. "That darker clothing would fit you way better than the bright clothes I was making you try on." Arthur agreed silently, not wanting to break the Pole's train of thought. "But I like have no clue where such clothes exist!" He gave an exasperated sigh. "And the only store that I can think of is in America." This made Arthur listen fully to the Pole, instead of wondering off into space. "I can't remember the name of it." Feliks trailed off. "It was like something like 'Topic' with something before it." He added. "I like guess I didn't remember it since like the store was absolutely weird and like didn't really have cute clothing." He then took another drink of his smoothie.

Feliks' description of that store clicked with Arthur's memory. _Hot Topic,_ Arthur said in his mind. _That's the store he's talking about. But I wonder how he ever heard of such a store…_

It was true that Arthur was familiar with said store, since Alfred had taken him there while Arthur was staying for a meeting. It was hilarious to the Briton that the American had wanted to show off such a store that he only received a laugh and a retort of "It's not true punk like in my country." However, Arthur did sneak out that night to go buy a few band shirts from there, but he would never tell that to anyone; especially to a person like Feliks.

"Like Arthur, are you like listening to me?" Feliks asked while waving his hand in Arthur's face.

"I'm sorry, what did you ask?" Arthur said coming back to reality.

"Geez!" Feliks huffed. "It's one thing to be rude, but it's another to be ignored."

Arthur was quite sure that even though the Pole probably had no clue of what he was saying but it made sense. But nothing in the world could ever explain what Feliks said after.

"Like were you thinking of your _boyfriend_?" Feliks asked in a teasing tone that seemed so malicious to Arthur at the time.

"O-of course not!" Arthur shouted, his face reddening at what Feliks had implied. "I don't even have one!"

Arthur should have just kept his mouth shut, but that last comment was like the last nail on his casket. "So you do like have one, huh?" Feliks inquired, his eyebrow arching upwards.

"N-no! I didn't mean that at all." Arthur put his hands up defensively.

"The more you deny it, the more likely it's true." Feliks stated. "So who is the lucky guy?"

"I'm telling you the truth." Arthur sighed. "I honestly don't have a lover." With that last statement, Arthur had sealed his fate as if he had just dug his own grave.

"A 'lover' you say." Feliks said more to himself than Arthur. "Well, after this little bet, you'll totally have every guy like totally falling for you!" Arthur's face was now turning a beautiful shade of scarlet. "Of course, you like need to shave your legs." Feliks bluntly added as he stuck out his tongue.

Arthur motionlessly sat in the chair, hoping that when he snaps and kills the Pole that it would be just. Arthur's face was still scarlet as Feliks started talking about probably going to a different country to shop in. Arthur's face then drastically changed to white as he thought of any other country figuring out that he had not only lost a bet to Feliks, but he also had to cross dress.

_He or she would never let me live it down._ Arthur thought as he tried looking for an excuse to stop Feliks' plans. _But how could I do that?_

"How about we go to London and shop around there?" Arthur suggested, hoping that this would work. "I mean, if we go to any other country, we'd end up getting lost and having to call someone to help us out." Arthur added. "Don't you agree?"

Feliks thought it over for a moment. "Hmm… well, I guess that would be okay."

"That's it. Just 'okay'?" Arthur scoffed. "Are you mad? It's bloody London!"

"There just wouldn't be much clothing choice there for me." Feliks stated. "Oh! You meant for you! Sorry! That would like totally be good! Let's go!" is what Feliks had said but it came out rushed. Before Arthur could decipher Feliks' words, he was being pulled by his arm and rushed to the car.

---

It had been a long day of successful shopping, or it was to Feliks; but to Arthur it was a different matter. Not only were they in London, they were in a place that Arthur was recognizable to mostly everyone, which stressed out Arthur even more. Luckily Feliks was certain that most of the items that he had picked out would look perfect on Arthur.

"It's just my sense of fabulism." Feliks stated as he grabbed a red plaid pleated miniskirt off the rack. "I can make people look their best based on their aura." He held up the skirt to Arthur's hips. "That will work." Feliks said as he shoved the skirt into the Briton's hands like he did with the many items before. "Oh! This would totally go with that skirt!" Feliks said pulling down a black spaghetti-strap top. "And that one too!" Feliks said as he handed Arthur various items, one in particular was a black militia hat.

"A hat?" Arthur asked.

"Yup, a hat!" Feliks said triumphantly. "It can like totally hide your eyebrows!" Arthur kicked the Pole in the shin for that comment. "Like owie, you didn't have to kick me." Feliks said as tears swelled up in his eyes.

"You're not getting sympathy from me." Arthur sighed. "I know you are just doing that to make me feel bad."

"Meanie." Feliks huffed.

After Feliks was finished with looking around, it was time to actually buy the items. The girl at the counter raised her eyebrow at the humongous stack of clothing.

"Will this be all for you sir?" she asked inspecting the British man's face.

"Like totally!" Feliks replied, cutting Arthur off.

"I do believe the young lady was speaking to me, _sister_." Arthur hissed at the Pole.

"So like sorry, _brother_." Feliks pouted.

"Whatever." The clerk replied.

---

As the duo returned to Arthur's house for the night, something occurred to Arthur.

"Hey Feliks?" Arthur asked.

"Like what is it?" Feliks responded.

"I just realized that we forgot to make a time period for how long this bet will last." Arthur stated looking out the window of the car to the dark evening sky.

"Like that would be so totally helpful." Feliks replied. "I guess we'll make it like two months?"

"Two months!?" Arthur shouted. "Why two months!?"

"Cause that's probably how long it will take you to get a boyfriend." Feliks murmured lowly.

Arthur's ears began to burn and he sat quietly for a minute or two.

"Hey Artie, is it like totally okay if I spend the night?" Feliks asked. "I mean, it's really late here and it's probably way too early in the morning at my house for me to get on a plane back."

"I guess it's alright." Arthur sighed as Feliks yawned at the same time.

"It's way past my bedtime. I need my beauty sleep." Arthur silently laughed at the statement.

When they got inside the house, Arthur immediately crashed on the couch.

---

Arthur stood in the middle of a crowded place. He wasn't sure where he was at the moment, but he definitely knew that Feliks was gone. He looked around searching for anyone that seemed familiar to him.

No one.

Arthur was alone in a crowded place. He knew he was waiting for something or for someone, but he never found them. He then turned and started to walk out, when he noticed that he was wearing a skirt. Arthur blushed deeply, knowing that he had succumbed to the bet.

And before he knew it, someone was putting his hands on him. Grabbing and rubbing Arthur's shoulders, while another pair of hands grabbed Arthur's hands and pulled Arthur away from the other's touches.

Arthur felt the sensation that he should have known his savior, but before he could say 'thank you' the person spoke.

"You really are a kinky, perverted old man." A familiar voice said, a taunting smile forming on the other's face.

Arthur's eyes widened as the person's identity was revealed for a brief moment before the whole room underwent a drastic change from a crowded public place to a conference room. There, Arthur was mocked and laughed at by his follow peers.

The whole room began to spin and Arthur fell to the floor, tears swelling up his eyes. He saw the figure from the vision before standing away from the others alongside two others, but they just stood there not even taking action.

Arthur felt sick as the boy with blue eyes mouthed the words 'I'm sorry'.

Then the scenery changed again, this time to a muddy battlefield with rain pouring down upon Arthur as he wept on his knees in his red uniform.

---

Arthur sat up as he immediately awoke from his sleep; his breaths short and rapid. Arthur took in his surroundings as he calmed his breathing. He was home, in the den and had obviously fallen asleep on the couch the night before.

_So that was a dream?_ Arthur thought as he stretched a bit. _What a horrid vision! Hopefully nothing like that occurs._ Arthur got up from the couch, noticing that there was a note on the table.

He picked up the note and read it:

_Dear Arthur,_

_Like possibly by the time you read this I'll be on my flight back home. Like I just wanted to say that I had a great time with you and I think we've gotten to know and understand each other a bit more. So I guess we'll have to go shopping again once you get a boyfriend and we'll like have a double-date and go out to eat or something like that!_

_Your Matchmaker/Stylist,_

_Feliks the fabulous_

_P.S. If you need help impressing a guy, I'll like totally help you out! 3_

Arthur smiled menacingly at the note and as he crumbled the paper into a ball. He then threw it at the wall.

"Now that that's over!" Arthur said as he walked to the kitchen to make some tea.

While he waited for the tea to be ready, Arthur read yesterday's newspaper; until he received a text message. Arthur groaned wondering who would be daft enough to send a message this early in the morning. As he checked his messages, he noticed that he had received two which seemed completely identical if both messages were not sent by two completely people.

"Why the bloody hell, do I even have his number!?" Arthur screamed as he noticed that the most recent message was from Francis or known on Arthur's phone as "Frog".

As he checked the older message, Arthur realized who it was from due to the name and the awful spelling in it.

Arthur's phone slipped out of his grasp and made a cracking against the tile flooring as his memory flashed part of his nightmare with someone with blue eyes mouthing 'I'm sorry'. Arthur's eyes widened with realization not only was it Alfred but Francis and Alfred were coming to visit him. And to make matters worse, Feliks' bet goes into effect today.

"… Fuck…" Arthur said as he looked over to the tea pot. "Bloody hell… I'm screwed…"

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**SLEEP!!!! Is it me or is this chapter super long? O.o; It's possibly funnier than the last chapter since I wasn't all there while working on this....**

**I'm sad to say that this is the last chapter (for now) that Feliks will make an official appearance, so from here on out the rest of the story will be focusing mostly on Arthur and someone.... Which is pretty obvious if you read the summary.... (*mind alludes to a version of a fail game show* and your answer? "What is cheese?" No... You're wrong, bye-bye! GAHH!! I NEED SLEEP!!! T^T)**

**Er... Anyways, as always please review! It makes me all giddy and fuzzy inside and it'll probably make me write more chapters a lot quicker! Plus chapter 3 might be out sometime this week, so keep looking for it like a hunter with a net!**

**... sleep~ ( = A = )**


	3. Uninvited Guests part 1

**Author's Note: HOLY COW!!! AH~~!!! DX I'm extremely sorry that this is late, and it is entirely my fault!!! School's awful and I'm a procrastinator... but yay for Spring Break! -throws confetti- T^T Anyways, yeah, school's bad and I should be doing my history homework and finishing my book, but I wanted to do this first! I'll try to have the second part of this up by Monday.**

**Warnings: Francis, Arthur's skirt, the word 'seductive', razors, and lots of other things. Reader's descretion is advised.**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia and its wonderful characters are owned by Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing except my crappy plot for this fanfic.**

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Uninvited Guests

It had been a while since Arthur had that shocking realization, and within that time he grumbled about how rude it was to not call or to even invite yourself over to one's house without making formal arrangements. Arthur sighed as he pushed all that aside while glancing towards the clock hanging upon the wall. The _gits_, so to speak, would be arriving by noon, which gave Arthur plenty of time to stress over getting dressed and about the idiotic clothing that Feliks had bought for him.

"But first," Arthur said as he started his trek up the staircase. "I do believe a shower is indeed needed." Arthur smiled at the fact that he could possibly drown and wash his horrible morning down the drain with bathing, until he remembered a statement from the night before.

"_Of course, like you need to shave your legs."_ It echoed around Arthur's brain, rattling and shaking Arthur's personal judgment. He glanced over at the razor that he kept just in case facial hair ever reared its ugly head upon his _handsome_ face.

"Well," Arthur gulped as he nervously reached for the item. "I-it wouldn't hurt to at least experiment." And with that statement, Arthur had made a new enemy: the razor.

---

"Bloody hell!" Arthur shouted as he wrapped the towel around his waist. "How can women do that without leaving scratches behind?" Arthur asked no one in particular as he rummaged through many drawers to find the item that he needed the most at the moment. "Where is it?" He hissed as he looked inside the current drawer. "Ah! There it is!" He announced as he pulled out a box of band-aids.

He then proceeded to bandage the most obvious of all the _"battle wounds"_ he had received, which was a cut that had made itself feel welcomed upon the Briton's knee. Arthur winced as he dabbed at the wound with a nearby towel and then immediately put a bandage upon it.

---

After that 'wonderful' event, Arthur had decided to pick out his outfit for the day. As he entered his room, he noticed an odd box sitting on his bed with a note attached to it. As Arthur got closer, he reached out for the note and read it.

_Arthur,_

_Like, I forgot that I totally had these! I like had bought them when I went on a shopping spree in America and had like thought these were adorable. However, I like never wore them, so I'm totally giving them to you!_

_-Feliks_

Curious as to what Feliks was rambling about, Arthur removed the lid and came face-to-face with a pair of converse that looked like… "Boots?" Arthur asked, puzzled by the footwear. Arthur pulled out the shoes and examined them. Indeed they were boots, but the laces were pre-re-laced. "One less thing to worry about." Arthur stated as he walked over to the dresser to his awaiting doom.

Arthur made note that Feliks had indeed taken the advantage to put away the items. He looked at all the garments that had been bought the day before, and decided that the red plaid miniskirt looked more _appealing_ than the other lacy, feminine skirts. Arthur blushed at the thought of said skirt being more appealing and made a note to burn every single item after the bet ended.

"And the top-" Arthur's nose scrunched up as he finally saw that most of the tops that Feliks had picked out showed more skin than what Arthur was used to.

Arthur caught a glimpse of a white dress shirt, but when he focused all attention on it, it turned out that the shirt was made to show off the neck and collarbone of the wearer. Arthur gave a defeated sigh as he took the shirt off the hanger and then grabbed a black tank top to go underneath it.

"Honestly, this is unbearable." Arthur groaned as he started to get dressed; underwear and all. "Wait a minute!" Arthur said suddenly as he remembered his 'guests' that would be arriving in about two hours. "Knowing that damn frog, I need something to cover my undergarments."

Arthur searched frantically through drawers in search of something that he could wear. He then came upon a pair of black shorts that looked as if they were pajama bottoms. "Don't worry about it," Arthur reassured himself. "At least it will be another layer."

Arthur then returned to getting dressed. Once completely dressed, Arthur looked over himself in the mirror. It felt weird, as if something was missing or out of place. As Arthur tried to figure it out, the black militia hat fell upon the floor nearby. Arthur stared at the hat for awhile, concluding that a faerie must have dropped it due to the faint green glowing bits of magical dust. He brushed it off and then put it a top his head.

"There, that looks better!" Arthur said enthusiastically, as the hat slipped slowly a bit covering his eyebrows. Arthur paid no attention to the falling hat as he headed down the steps and out into the rare sunshine of the day.

---

It had been only been eight hours since he had gotten on the plane, but eight hours seemed like an eternity in the eyes of a specific American. Alfred fidgeted in his seat, his bottom going practically num from sitting for so long.

"Ugh!" Alfred sighed as he leaned back in his seat, knowing that he was the only one flying first class to London. "I'm kind of hungry." He mumbled to himself as his stomach growled.

"Please fasten your seatbelts; we are landing soon." Alfred buckled it, suddenly full of energy.

---

"I should have taken the tunnel instead." Francis sighed as he looked out the window. "But how could I pass up this?" Francis smiled as quite a few ladies giggled as smiled at him with seductive eyes.

"It's just an hour." Francis said as the plane got closer to its destination.

---

"Bollocks!" Arthur cursed as he hurriedly walked into the airport, ignoring stares and whistles that he received as he walked past.

Arthur looked up at the 'Now Arriving' board, seeing that both planes are coming in at the same time.

"Just my luck." He groaned as he leaned against a wall out of sight and went through his phone. He was unaware of the people staring at him.

---

As Alfred waited for his luggage, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face. Alfred ignored it until said person came up to him.

"My, Amérique, you're visiting Arthur?" The Frenchman asked as he looked at the American.

"What about you?" Alfred asked, not wanting to deal with the pervert's questioning.

"Mon cher, I do believe I asked you first?" Francis smirked.

"Well, Arthur always stays at my house when there's a meeting in my country." Alfred answered unwillingly as he grabbed his luggage.

"Well, if you're there then maybe Angleterre will let me stay also." Francis concluded as his luggage appeared also.

They talked amongst themselves as headed towards the exit, only stopping when a bright red plaid miniskirt caught their eyes.

"Whoa." The American said as he blinked a little. Francis found the item, or person for that matter, that Alfred was talking about.

"Indeed, that's quite a fashion statement." Francis agreed while a wolfish grin appeared on his face. "Interested?"

"N-no." Alfred blushed as bit. "It's just that her skirt's brightness is kinda… contrasting? … Compared to everyone around here."

Francis nodded in agreement. "But she does look cute, non?"

"I guess?" Alfred replied, unsure of what to say.

Just then, the subject of their conversation just so happened to walk ahead of them, clearly focusing on going to another destination and not knowing that the skirt bounced up with every step "she" took. At one point, the skirt bounced up rather high and both men caught a glimpse of what the assumed to be "her" undergarments. Alfred blushed fully and almost tripped as they exited the airport.

"She's really tempting, isn't she?" Francis said more to himself as Alfred tried to figure out what he meant. "I'll just have to do it."

"W-wait a minute. You're not gonna do what I think you'll do, right?" Alfred asked the questionable Frenchman as said man smirked.

"And are you going to do something about it?" Francis asked. "It seems like you were too afraid earlier."

"A hero is never afraid." Alfred stated bluntly. "It just seems… wrong… But then again, you are… yourself."

"Was that an insult?" Francis scoffed but shook the comment off. "I don't care, I'm going for it!"

---

Approximately ten minutes had gone by and neither of the _gits_ had shown up. Arthur checked the arrivals and then checked his phone for any messages that he had missed. Nothing at all.

"Well, apparently they're taking their sweet time," Arthur said rather menacingly, as he pulled tugged his skirt down a bit to keep it from exposing his bottom. "Unfortunately, I don't have the patience to wait for them all day. They'll just have to find their own way." And with that, Arthur turned away from the wall and started on his way out.

With every step he took, felt the skirt fly a bit up but he had gotten used to it. The shoes that he was wearing, however, was a different matter. They were a size too big and the tops rubbed against Arthur's shins, causing quite a bit of discomfort to the Briton.

_Note to self, buy stockings or longer socks._ Arthur thought as he exited through the door, unaware that the pair behind him had caught a glimpse of the black shorts that he wore under the miniskirt. Arthur glanced at the time on his watch, when he felt a pair of arms snake around him and turning him towards the intruder.

"For the moment I saw you, my heart skipped a beat." Francis said 'romantically' as Arthur froze in realization and fear. "And the way your skirt bounced as you swayed your hips," Arthur caught glimpse of the American, who at this moment was pretending not to know the Frenchman. "I knew, you had to be mine!"

Francis then attempted to kiss the utterly confused Briton, but Arthur brought his arm up out of the Frenchman's grip and swung his fist as hard as he could. His fist collided with Francis' jaw, the impact cause Francis to let go of Arthur in order to make sure that he beautifully handsome face was still intact. Alfred, who had seen the entire thing, tried to hold back his laughter, but it turned into a giggle fit.

"Just who do you think I am, you bleeding frog!" Arthur screamed as Francis was shoved backwards towards Alfred, who moved out of the way just in time.

Alfred's laughter stopped suddenly, his full attention put upon the Briton. Arthur looked angrily at both men, as Alfred noticed the clothes that he was wearing: a black militia hat, a white button up shirt that was designed to show cleavage, a black tank top underneath said shirt, and a red plaid miniskirt accompanied by weird shoes/boots that he recognized. Francis muttered something incoherent, but evidently it pissed Arthur off even more.

"-and I don't think women in their right minds would want anything to do with you!" Alfred missed the first half of the sentence, but he had a hunch that it involved Francis and himself mistaking the British man as a woman. "And just what are you staring at you git?" Arthur asked suddenly, catching Alfred off guard.

"Nothing." Alfred shrugged. "Hey, Artie, nice skir- I mean… kilt?" Alfred added knowing that he didn't want Arthur to get even more pissed than he was.

Arthur blinked at the comment and seemed to lighten up. "It's actually a skirt." He blushed, admitting the fact. "But thank you." Arthur smiled a bit at Alfred, causing the American to blush a bit himself.

"Really?" Alfred asked. "Whatcha do? Lose a bet to Feliks?" At this question, Arthur's face twisted into one of shock and fear. Alfred could have sworn that tears had started to form in Arthur's eyes after he had asked his question. "Artie, don't cry!"

"I'm not crying!" Arthur retorted.

Francis, who was apparently forgotten, decided to turn the focus on him. "So, you did lose a bet to the Pole?" Arthur shut up at that comment. "That's rich!"

"Sh-shut up you bloody frog!" Arthur groaned. "Anyways, what did you two want?"

"Can I stay at your house for the meeting?" Alfred asked, Francis still taunting the poor Briton. "I mean, you always stay over at mine so… yeah." Francis smirked at the American's loss for words.

"I don't know, _can_ you?" Arthur retorted, hoping that Alfred would understand his grammar mistake.

Alfred frowned a bit and rolled his eyes. "_May_ I?"

"Yes, you may." Arthur glared at the Frenchman who was apparently 'up-to-no-good'. "And you, you damn frog?"

"The same; it would be wonderful since you are now wearing such… How would you put it? … 'seductive' clothing?" Francis smirked seductively, until Arthur kicked him in the 'Eiffel Tower'.

"Go get a hotel room!" Arthur fumed as he stormed off towards home, followed by a confused American dragging a Frenchman who was obviously in pain.

Arthur sighed. _This is going to be a long day._

* * *

**Poor Arthur~ I'm terrible!! XD**

**As always, please review even if you hated it! Like I said earlier, I'll try to have the second part published by Monday, if not then you can... throw things at me?**


	4. Uninvited Guest part 2

**Author's Notes: OH GOD!!! IT'S WAY PAST MY BEDTIME!!! I FON'T CARE I'M POSTING THIS FOR ALL THE LOVELY FANS!!!! Just wait I'll read this in the morning and be like, "Why did I post this last night!?" Oh well... I skipped finishing "The Great Gatsby" and my Cold War history homework for this you all better feel lucky and loved!!! Oh sorry if the characters seem OOC, I tried really hard.**

**WARNINGS: France, Arthur's *cough*sexy*sough* shorts, Alfred's mind, etc. READER'S DESCRETION IS HEAVILY ADVISED!!!!!**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia and its lovely characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing but the crappy plot for this fanfic.**

* * *

Uninvited Guest part 2

Arthur had nearly forgotten that he was hosting the G-8 meeting this time, until those gits had shown up.

_Thank God, the bet does not include meetings._ Arthur sighed as he fidgeted with the shirt's sleeves, which were too short for Arthur's taste. _Damn bloody sleeves, only going to my elbows._

However, the sleeves were only a distraction from the uncomfortable situation that he had gotten himself into. Arthur stopped trying to (unsuccessfully) pull the sleeves down to his wrists and leaned back in the café chair, glaring straight at the sources for his on-coming migraine.

"What are you two planning?" Arthur hissed as he noticed how quiet the American and Frenchman had become.

"Nothing, Artie!" Alfred laughed in response.

"Oui, nothing, Angleterre." Francis winked, causing Arthur to pull at the hem of his skirt.

"Why, ya don't trust us?" Arthur nearly cringed at the American's improper way of speaking.

"Yes, I don't trust you two." Arthur's eyebrow twitched under his hat. "Will you stop being improper? It's quite rude."

---

"I ain't being improper!" Alfred retorted as Arthur kicked his shin under the small table. "Ouch, Artie, that hurt!" Alfred whined as he rubbed his poor abused shin.

Francis had become quite amused by how the two English speaking countries showed their affections to one another. Although it was quite amusing to him, Francis would have to admit it was extremely painful to watch.

"What are you planning, Frog?" Arthur imposed as Francis stopped smirking.

"Oh nothing," Francis tried feigning innocence, but Arthur knew very well that the Frenchman was anything but innocent. "Just taking note on how a 'proper' English gentleman, like yourself, treats his poor guests, like moi." Francis smiled at Arthur's priceless expression. "That expression is beautiful, mon cher." Francis scooted closer to Arthur, taking his chin and lifting it up towards himself. "I'd love to see it when I-"

Francis could not finish the rest of his statement, for Arthur once again punched the Frenchman. Alfred giggled at the Frenchman's pain and "heart-broken" expression.

"Keep laughing like that," Arthur glared over at Alfred. "And I might have to do something about it." Alfred blushed at that outspoken statement and the smirk that accompanied it.

"Why, how sex-" Arthur stomped on Francis' head, causing the latter to let out a terrible yelp of pain. Alfred looked the other way and brought the menu up to hide his face; 1: to hide himself from the other customers' shocked and annoyed glances, and 2: to hide the look of heartache that had made its way onto his face.

---

Alfred sat sipping his soft drink rather loudly, that Arthur kicked him in the shin once again. Alfred winced a bit, but returned the favor by stepping on Arthur's foot.

"Now, now children." Francis teased, both males shooting a death glare at him in response.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" The waitress asked politely as she walked up to the trio.

"Some more tea would be nice." Arthur suggested as he smiled at the young girl.

"Yes, sir!" The waitress replied as she went merrily on her way with Arthur's cup. Alfred and Francis glanced at each other for a split second then looked back at Arthur.

_I bet that waitress deals with a lot of weirdos and creeps._ Alfred concluded as he took a bite out of his sandwich. _She wasn't even fazed by Arthur's choice of clothing._

Alfred watched the Briton closely out of the corner of his as Arthur got up and walked off towards the front. Alfred's jaw clenched as he heard the whistles and comments that Arthur had received as he walked further away from where he was sitting. Francis watched the American's reaction with a smirk.

"Alfred," Francis breathed causing the American to snap out of his inner conflict.

"Y-yeah?" Alfred asked, making sure that he did not spill his drink on himself.

"Jealous, non?" Alfred almost choked on his drink but spit it out. Unfortunately, the spray of soda was directed towards Francis.

"Wh-what!?" Alfred sputtered as Francis wiped the drink off his face. "N-no I'm not! Why would I be jealous of a perverted cross-dressing old man!?" Alfred laughed nervously as he rubbed his head as the Frenchman stared at him, one eyebrow arched upwards. "Uh sorry for… um… my reaction?"

"Shying away from your problem is not going to make Angleterre see your feelings." Francis stated bluntly. "And another thing, don't do that kind of thing in front of someone you are trying to impress. It's disgusting and not to mention rude." Alfred smiled sheepishly at the Frenchman.

"Yeah, I guess you're right- Wait a minute!" Alfred shouted at the bearded man. "I don't have feelings for that guy! You're sick!" Alfred stuck his tongue out at the Frenchman, who smacked the American with a rolled up napkin. "Ow! By the way, where did he go?"

"What do you mean 'ow'? Francis asked under his breath. "If you were paying attention, our _host_ had to excuse him for… private matters." Francis smirked at the end.

"Oh so the Brit had to take a 'tinkle'?" Alfred laughed.

"Oui, monsieur." Francis smirked like a maniac.

Both men then proceeded to have a "manly" giggle fit over absolutely nothing in general, until they felt the rage of a certain British gentleman behind them. If they were in a Japanese animated show, Francis and Alfred would be "sweat-dropping" at the moment.

"What are you two doing?" Arthur asked voice clearly malicious in every way possible. "It's not every day you see a frog getting along with a slob."

"Who are you calling a slob!?" Alfred retorted spinning around to face Arthur, but ended up with an eye-sight full of Arthur's black shorts.

"Y-you pervert!" Arthur tried smacking the American, but Alfred dodged it every single time.

"It was an accident, Artie, honest!" Alfred whined, hoping that that would make the Brit stop trying to kill him. "Besides, why were you standing that close to me, ya perv!?"

"What a beautiful sight that was." Francis sighed, causing all attention to turn onto him. "Big Ben truly is a wonderful sight, but the Eiffel Tower is still the best~!" Arthur slapped the Frenchman across the face.

"Never mind," Alfred said as he watched the Brit step on the Frenchman numerous times. "He's the pervert around here." Alfred smiled sheepishly as the waitress walked towards them.

"Um, sorry about the wait!" She said joyously, possibly unaware of the battle in front of her. "Here's your tea!"

"Oh, thank you." Arthur paused to address the young girl. "But I do believe we'll be leaving now."

"Oh, okay." She glanced over at Francis then directed her gaze back to Arthur. "Would you like a bag?" Alfred, who was standing next to the waitress, inched away slowly from the girl.

"That would be delightful!" Arthur chuckled as a smile appeared on his face.

_No wonder I declared independence._ Alfred thought as the waitress left once again to retrieve a bag. _British people are weird._

---

Arthur walked along the walkway to his home being followed by Alfred, who was dragging a passed out and severely injured Frenchman. Alfred couldn't help but blush as he watched Arthur's skirt bounce up and sometimes sway side to side as Arthur walked.

"Alfred?" Alfred was brought back into reality by Arthur's voice.

"Y-yes?" Alfred did not want to make the Briton angry again, after all that he's experienced today.

"Aren't you going to come inside?" Arthur cocked his head to the side and had an expression of pure innocent curiosity.

"I- uh…" Alfred could not think of anything to say. The situation was something that the American was not used to.

"It's not like you have any other place to go." Arthur stated in a matter of fact tone. The door opened, light streamed upon Arthur, making him look like an angel.

Alfred shook his head. No, he did not just think that his former mentor looked like an angel. His mind was just tired from the long "eventful" day, and in its haziness he had thought that.

"Alfred, are you alright?" Arthur asked, a bit uneasy.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Alfred sighed as he walked into the house, hearing someone mutter a 'le ouch' as he passed through the door frame. "Oh but you probably wouldn't want this creep in here, right?" Alfred laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head.

"I guess you're right." Arthur replied, causing Alfred to jump for joy in his mind. "Let's throw him in the closet, shall we?"

"Eh!?" Alfred was taken aback by how innocent Arthur's voice had sounded.

"It's just Francis." Arthur stated rather coldly. "Besides, I only have one available guest room."

"Why not just leave him on the couch?" Alfred asked dragged said Frenchman into the den.

"I don't want that thing on my beautiful couch." Arthur smiled. "Do you know how many diseases that thing might have?"

"R-right." Alfred said as Arthur shoved Francis into the seemingly small closet.

"Now that that's taken care of," Arthur turned towards Alfred, skirt flying upwards once again. "Would you like anything?"

_Yes, I want you!_ Alfred's mind screamed, as a blush crept onto his face. "Don't ya think it's a little… you know… too late?"

"Not really," Arthur said as he walked past the blushing teen. "You wouldn't be ready for bed at this hour now, would you?"

"H-huh?" Alfred asked, his face turning scarlet.

"Oh no, that man's spoiled you too, hasn't he?" Arthur huffed as he placed his hands on his hips. "I knew you two were getting along a bit too well." Arthur turned to walk away.

"Now hang on, don't group me up with… that guy." Alfred retorted grabbing Arthur's wrist and pulling the Briton towards him.

Alfred was indeed stronger than he knew for when he meant to pull Arthur to turn him around, Alfred ended up pulling Arthur into an embrace. Both men blushed at how close they were to each other.

They stayed like that for another moment or two, when Alfred looked down at Arthur, who was looking up wondering what the other was going to do. Alfred's started to dangerously inch closer to Arthur's when Arthur pushed himself out of the other's arms.

"Um, um…" Arthur's mind struggled to work properly while he watched the American look away from him. "It's late and I'm heading off to bed. I'm assuming you know where your sleeping quarters are." He said as he approached the staircase. As he did so, he turned around and looked at Alfred. "Good-night, Alfred."

"Night, Arthur." Alfred said, still not wanting to look at the other.

Arthur headed up the stairs and into the room. As he heard the door click closed, Alfred leaned against the wall and slid down to the ground; unaware that Arthur had did the same, safe it was the door instead.

"_**Just now, what would have happened if I…"**_ Both men asked in their minds.

"_Had I not pulled away?"_

"_Had I not let him leave?"_

* * *

**DUN DUN DUUUUUNNNNNN~~~~~~!!!!!!!**

**... LEAVE ME ALONE!!! I'M LOOPY!!!! XD**

**Erm... Ahem... Uh yeah... Fun fact time: I, Neko Syaoran, must always have a bit of cliched drama in my fanfics, or else it wouldn't be a _Neko Syaoran Fanfic_. *hit with tomatoes***

**Anyways! Hope you have enjoyed!! Review, even if you hated it!!!**

**... I think the mentors are this:**

**Arthur's mentor: Feliks**

**Alfred's mentor: France**

**Next Chapter will be more focusing on Alfred again.... and then it'll all go down hill!!! *smacked for idiotic/not funny joke***


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